It's a BoyGirl Thing
by xxtheoneyoudreamaboutxx
Summary: A tale about Jo, Dean and some stupid staute of a god of mischief, who teaches them about eachother. complete crack!fic. slight X-over, but it doesnt matter if you've seen the movie. rated for language, and sexual themes, non-explicit.
1. Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

**It's a Boy/Girl Thing.**

Chapter one- Anything you can do, I can do better.

It had all started in the musty back room in the Stoneybrook Museum that smelled the stale smell or old books, rats and a lack of regular ventilation. It was out of the way, further then most of the visitors had the energy to go, and was like the gap under the bed, where all the odd bits and pieces, and the old, less interesting displays were stashed, to make way for all the limited time only exhibitions, and the newer, modern crowd-friendly displays that filled the many rooms that were within walking distance of the big, decorative entrance.

Dean and Sam, and Jo it seemed, had come to this side of Connecticut to investigate an old rumour of double disappearances, and strange behaviour linked with the room, which they had quickly found out was only temporary, though varying in lengths of time, that usually ended up with the couple in a honeymoon suite and then living happily ever after. But, as hunters, it was the done thing to check out the room anyway.

That's how Dean and Jo had ended up in front of the big, stupid statue of some pagan god, possibly Aztec or Mayan, while Sam had been getting his geek off over some old excuse for a book he had found.

"Why don't you and Sam just go find your own hunt, Dean? I was here first." Jo snapped back at some stupid remark that Dean had made about the fact she had chosen to wear her hair in braids, which had been part of her latest guise to pry information she needed for the case. Dean and Sam weren't the only ones in the room who regularly committed identity fraud, even if they were only ones with a police record for it.

"Whoa,_ sorry_ Jo. Did we catch you at the wrong time of the month?" Dean shot back, slightly hurt that she wasn't so happy to see him, though he would never have admitted that, being the big, strong, no-chick-flick-moments, playboy hunter that he was.

"Fuck you, Dean!" Jo's voice rose to a level not too far below a shriek. "You fucking chauvinistic bastard. You think your all man, just because you have that waste of fossil fuel on wheels that you're so fond of!"

"Don't bring my baby into this stupid little tantrum of yours." Dean growled. _Be glad you're a girl, _he thought angrily_, or you'd have a black eye and a few broken ribs by now. _

Jo was about to sock Dean, when a strange smoke wafted out of the statue, causing her to cough.

"What cough fuck?"

After the initial shock had worn off, Dean pried his brother away from the stinky, old pile of papers that had once been a book and dragged him out of the Museum, realising that it was best to shag ass before they got busted for breaking the bloody decrepit statue. Jo, similar concern in mind, made a timely and discrete disappearance, determined never to see the Winchesters again.

* * *

The next morning, a strange feeling coursed through Jo's veins, and swam in the bottom of her stomach, as she lay on the motel bed, half asleep. She slowly sat up, groggily wondering why there seemed to be something not quite right.

The door opened, letting the smell of strong, fresh caffeine waft into the room, followed by Sam who was casually holding donuts and coffee.

"Hey, you're awake. I have breakfast," the tall man greeted her, as if it was completely natural for him to waltz into her room in the early hours of the morning.

"What are you doing here?" Jo squealed, standing up with every intention of forcibly kicking his ass out.

"Oh, my god." Jo suddenly realised she was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. She looked down.

"Oh, my god! They're gone!!"

Sam just stared at the body of his brother, wondering what the fuck he was going on about.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

Jo just stared at him in confusion.

"Dean? I'm not- oh_, fuck_." Jo fell backwards onto the bed.

"This is not good. This is so not good. I'm a fucking _man_!"

Sam just looked at the thing that, only last night, had been his brother, and pulled the canister of holy water from his bag on the floor…

* * *

Dean was forced awake as REO Speed wagon spilled into the small motel room. Groggily, he reached for the phone, with a lazy note-to-Dean to kill Sam, later, for his lousy taste.

"Huh?" He croaked, his voice higher then he thought it possible to go. _Wow, I must have some hangover, _he thought_, especially as I don't remember drinking anything last night, besides the beer at dinner._

"Honey, sorry, did I wake you?" Ellen's cheerful voice came tumbling out of the phone_. What the fuck?_

"Uh, What? Ellen?" Dean asked, as he sat up and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall.

"Fucking son of a," Dean swore as he dropped the phone, hanging it up in the process.

"Bitch!"

This had to be some sort of nightmare, Dean decided, as he fell backwards onto the bed and closed his eyes. His reasoning was that if he went to sleep in the dream, he would wake up and he would be himself again, with all the right appendages.

Then, the phone started to ring again.

* * *

Jo glared at Sam, as she lay, sopping, on the bed.

"I'm not a fucking demon," She spat out, throwing a disgruntled look at Sam, who quickly painted his face with the most innocent look he could summon.

"I'm Jo. Or, at least, I was when I fell asleep last night," She sighed, wondering where Dean was, if she was in his body.

"Oh crap. I guess that means Dean is now me."

Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering whether or not to believe what looked, very much, like his elder brother. However, it didn't take long for the nerd side of his brain to kick in.

"This would explain the 'strange behaviour and disappearances'," Sam explained, feeling incredibly smart, like a five year old reading his first sentence. Jo nodded.

"I have to call Dean."

* * *

After the time it took to pull on some clothes, drive to the museum, and find their way to the back room, Dean and Jo stood in each other's bodies, yelling all the curse words and insults they knew at the statue.

"It's a god of mischief. That explains it." The voice of the younger, taller, geeky-er Winchester cut into their angry rant.

"You guys were fighting, it was probably trying to impart some wisdom onto you."

Dean swore, and kicked the statue.

"Wisdom, my ass, you son of a bitch!"

Jo laughed, sadly. She really wanted to kill that statue.

"Maybe we should salt and burn it?" She suggested, then realising the complications with burning a solid, stone statue, as both brother's raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well you, Dean, aren't doing a better job! Kicking it didn't do anything, did it?" Jo snapped, as Dean laughed at her.

"Oh, maybe I have a temper when I'm mad, and maybe there isn't much I can do in this case, as it is temporary. But on most occasions, I can do just about anything better then you!" Dean grinned, mocking her.

"Oh, you think you would make a better girl then me? I bet you won't last the week!" Jo baited, suddenly remembering what time of the month it was. Oh, Dean was in for a golly good time.

"I bet you a drink, that I do survive the week. And I bet you another drink that I can pick up a guy better then you." Dean was confident; after all he knew what guys liked.

"How about, dinner and drinks for all three of us: drinks on if you survive the week without complaint, or asking me any questions about how to do anything related to that body of mine; Dinner on if you can find me a decent boyfriend," Jo smiled, she wasn't going to lose.

"You're on," Dean grinned. This would be easy.

* * *


	2. And So It Goes

_CHAPTER TWO- And so it goes…_

Jo was spying on herself. It was a strange concept, really, almost as strange as the concept of Dean being in her body. Anyway, she watched as Dean dragged Sam around the shopping centre, searching for the perfect decorations for the fine body he was stuck in.

_"…Living in a material world__. And I am a material girl. You know that we are living in a material world. And I am a material girl…"_ A young, female, voice sang from over the speakers overhead, as Dean and Sam wandered into a small underwear and pajama boutique. Despite, and because of, the carefree and happy look on the face Dean currently wore, Sam was incredibly grumpy, bored, and disturbed by Dean's desire to modify Jo's wardrobe into something similar to his usual taste in girls. It hadn't been all that bad that Dean had wanted to buy Jo a black leather biker jacket, tailed to make the most of a woman's body, or the black, girl's bike boots. The denim skirts, and now the lacy underwear and revealing singlet tops were going a bit too far. At least Dean's reasoning seemed straight enough:

"If I'm going to be stuck in this body, for god knows how long, shouldn't I at least dress it up in something I wouldn't mind looking at? But there is no way I'm wearing heels. Fuck that…"

Dean fingered various decorative items of lingerie, imagining each of the tight-fitting, skimpy garments draped over Jo's olive skin. It was enough to make him hard… well, would have been if he still possessed his own body, and all the appendages that went with it. It was strange to be able to stand there, so close to all the intermit apparel and not get slapped viciously over the head and nailed a pervert. And it was scary that he was considering wearing them… something, despite all the crazy things they had done and seen, he had never considered ever doing… in the literal sense anyway.

A few long, boring minutes later, Jo's body, accompanied by a disgruntled Sam, strolled out of the store, arms laden with bags full of the morning's accomplishment. Jo, plastering a fake happy face on Dean's features, walked into the boutique that Dean had abandoned in search of something new.

"Sir?" The young, blonde, chipper shop assistant asked, hesitantly.

"Are you looking for a present for someone?" She hoped it was the right guess; hoped he wasn't some strange pervert or weird ass gay.

"What did they buy?" Jo snapped, ignoring the startled expression on the girl's face.

"The blonde and the tall guy: what did they buy?"

Mia, the shop clerk, let out a mental sigh of relief. He may be a freak, still, but at least he didn't seem to be here to get a good sniff. Complying to the expectant look on the man's face, she pointed.

"One of those, in red, one of those matching set, and that little number over there." She indicated various panties, bras and camisoles. So, Dean was trying to turn her into his favourite little wet dream, huh?

"Why?"

"Huh?" She asked, not expecting the sudden question.

"Why," Mia repeated. Jo was so used to answering awkward questions like this, she didn't need to think. Unfortunately, it was a habit she had grown accustomed to while in her own body.

"He's my boyfriend." _Wait, what? _Jo thought, hurriedly leaving the store. _Poor Dean and his weakened ability to get laid._

A few hours later, Jo had successfully bought a pink, played button-up, and flirted with the man at the counter, and was now walking into an overcrowded, sweaty pub. Scouting out the room, noting the exits, the bathrooms and possible threats, Jo quickly spotted her body leant over the pool table, no doubt hustling the sleazy looking men around him for all their worth.

Jo was glad she had opted for the pink shirt payback, because her body looked like a complete slut. Or, more precisely, a female version of Dean: biker boots, short denim skirt, and a pale blue camisole under a black leather jacket. Admittedly it didn't look awful, but in a place like this it screamed 'easy'.

"Hey," purred a young blonde leant against the bar as she approached it. Jo raised an eyebrow. "Hi?" The blonde smiled, and put her hand on Jo's arm. Leaning close enough that Jo could feel her warm, stale breath against Dean's ear. "How about buying me a drink?" Dean's eyes widened with Jo's shock, as she stared at the blonde, confused, for a second.

"You smell like you've had enough to drink. Besides, just how low do you think my standards are?" Jo smirked, trying to mask her overwhelming desire to puke. The blonde's face seemed to swell up as it turned red in anger and embarrassment.

"I am a perfectly respectable young lady and I have a respectable, hot ass!" The blonde pouted, like a three-year-old being told she couldn't have milk because there was already orange juice in her glass.

"I've seen nicer asses, missy, and if you're so respectable then why are you in a sleazy old pub trying to hook up?" Jo mocked, in a way that would have indicated that she was about to start surfing the crimson wave, if she was still in possession of all the right equipment.

"You cheated, you dirty whore!" The loud, angry voices of drunken bar sleazes interrupted from across the room.

"It's called hustling; you know that thing you were doing to the poor sucker that was playing you before me?" Dean smirked back. Well, until he felt an unwelcome hand grabbed hold of Jo's ass.

"How about we make you work for your money, doll face?" The beer-stained grin that accompanied that remark made Dean incredibly uneasy. Unfortunately, the body he was in didn't posses the strength he was accustomed to.

"Fuck off! I don't swing that way," Dean was informing the pack of animals until he was interrupted by a voice that put its arm protectively around his small, feminine shoulders.

"Who here is trying to take advantage of my baby sister?" Sam, taller than all of the men in the group, and completely sober, asked.

"You're outnumbered, kiddo. So go suck my dick, if you won't let me shove it up your sister's pretty little ass." One of the bigger, bulkier beer-gutted dicks shot back, unfazed by the menacing look on Sam's face, or by his height and muscle. (A/N- Sam's muscle…mmm…sorry, I got distracted _)

Sam raised an eyebrow at the threat, wondering if hitting him would be cruelty to animals.

"No thanks buddy." Sam declined the charming offer, as his fist connected with the barfly's nose, eliciting a nice cracking noise, and leaving the man unconscious.

"Goodnight," Sam said, with a threatening tone and look towards the remaining men, before ushering Dean towards the door.

"Dude, baby sister? I'm freaking older!" Dean whined as they walked away. "Only in your head, _sweet cheeks_." Sam laughed, patting his brother mockingly on the head. Dean growled. "Bitch," Dean shot back.

"Jerk."

As they walked towards the door, Dean caught the eye of a young brunette in a light blue halter neck, and a ripped denim skirt that barley covered her ass. Jo's mouth smiled back, giving her a flirtatious nod, as they left the pub.

Jo watched in horror as Dean announced to the entire room that she was a lesbian. Apparently, being a cheap slut wasn't enough.

_He is such a dick_, Jo thought, grimly, _it's going to take more than a powder pink shirt to avenge my pride…_.

**To be continued… Stay tuned for more fun and games next week. ^_^ **

**Cupcakes for anyone who can guess at Jo's revenge.**


	3. In Your Dreams

_Chapter Three – In Your Dreams_

Dean woke with a start; flushed and tingly. It felt strangely nice, but at the same time something was wrong. He climbed out of bed, his small, feminine feet landing on the carpet with a soft thud, and walked towards the bathroom.

It wasn't until the warm water hit his tired back, that Dean remembered the dream. An illicit, incredibly kinky, Kevin Cronin, of REO Speedwagon, in a shower dream. Of course, he had been _Jo_ in the dream… _was it her dream? _He wondered, shuddering and feeling like he was going to heave. While it was something he thought he'd never see, at least it showed Jo had some wild cat potential. The strangest part was it hadn't stayed Kevin.

--

Jo woke up as she hit the ground with a thud. She groaned, pulling herself up. The dream… well, she couldn't remember what the dream was. But it can't have been good if she'd fallen off the bed… unless it was _that_ good.

The young Harvelle pulled herself up off the floor, distracting herself from the dream with thoughts of her revenge schematics as she wandered into the bathroom. It wasn't until she was standing under the stream of boiling water that the perfect idea ran straight into her head, like a kid into a door.

--

Dean was wondering whether he should tell Sam. On one hand, Sam, being nerd-boy, would have more of an idea if it was possible he had actually had Jo's dream or if it was a product of his over-stressed mind. On the other hand, he really didn't want to confess that he had just had the most disturbing dream in his life. He still couldn't get his head around it. It was completely disturbing… though if it was actually Jo's dream… Still, he'd had a goddamn dream that he was Jo. Jo, in a shower, getting all hot and steamy...with himself.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam's concerned voice cut into his thoughts, as he wandered out of the bathroom. He looked up.

"I'm fine. I think I had Jo's dream. Is that possible?" Dean asked before he had a chance to change his mind. _ Please, Sammy, do not ask what the dream was._

"Why do you think it was Jo's dream?" Sam asked, ignorant to Dean's silent pleas.

"Because it's not a dream I would have. Besides, it was from Jo's point of view." He skidded around the awkward information that he really did not want to disclose to his brother.

"Oh…kay. I guess it could be. I mean, we've seen crazier, right?" Sam replied, after a short pause.

"There are plants and hoodoo and stuff that can give you front row seats to someone else's dreams, so I think it's more than possible. If not, then it's the statue's guess at her dreams… I mean, it's supposed to teach you two a lesson, right? It fits." Sam finished, his explanation ringing in Deans ears and around in between them as he thought for a second.

"Well, that is a relief." He muttered softly, yet loud enough that Sam could hear him. Sam raised an eyebrow in response.

"I still think we should talk to Bobby." Dean started to shake his head in disagreement.

"Bobby isn't going to believe this. Not without seeing us, and Jo together…" Sam nodded, realising his brother was right. The only problem was getting Jo to cooperate.

"I'll give him the heads up that we are coming, and then we'll see about Jo, okay?"

--

Despite their concerns, Jo turned out to be in agreement about getting Bobby's help. After all, she didn't want to be stuck as Dean for the rest of her life. The Impala purred happily as it rolled into Bobby's car yard, and came to a stop near the house.

"Good to see you. Where's Dean?" The older man asked as he held the door open for him. Dean, in Jo's pretty little meat suit, muttered something with a high profanity content as he walked past. Bobby raised a confused eyebrow, as he started to wonder if Jo was possessed or if she just had PMS. He wouldn't really put it past Dean to piss the girl off, like she obviously was. Still, something wasn't right.

"We'll explain in a second." Sam told him, politely. "In the mean time, can I get a beer?"

It was only a minute later, as Dean was opening his beer, that Jo walked in. He froze. Sam, however, choked on the amber liquid, spraying beer everywhere as he tried not to laugh.

"What the fuck," Dean swore weakly, in a heightened state of shock. "Did you _do_?!"


	4. My Sweetest Revenge

Chapter Four – My Sweet Revenge

Bobby was torn between running for the holy water and falling over laughing. He could see Jo staring at Dean with her jaw on the floor.

"What the fuck," She swore weakly, in obvious shock and terror. "Did you _do_?!" Her hand gestured at the elder man. It seemed as if he'd broken just about every rule humanly and supernaturally possible. Sam was spluttering and spraying his beer everywhere, almost convulsing in laughter, as his brother stood in the door way having giving up his biker boots for red tartan-patterned lace ups; his blue jeans for black cargo pants with decorative chains and blood red lining. Dean's usual grungy leather jacket over button up over shirt look was now discarded in favour for a black mesh shirt; spike arm bands on his wrists and black painted neatly on his nails. A dog collar and a loose dog chain clasped with a silver lock sat around his neck. His face… was white, clashing gothic-ly against the harsh black lipstick and circles painted around his eyes. And his hair was the bloody shade of red.

"Hey, dudes." Jo said through Dean's mouth, letting the word dude linger on in mockery. Dean was still spluttering in shock. Jo laughed with mock-bitterness, and a raised eyebrow.

"What's up, _Jo_?" She asked, the pointed look in her eyes lost on Dean. _What did _I_ do to deserve this, you freaking bitch? _

"Well, _Dean_," he returned, hands on his petite hips with all the attitude of a woman on PMS. His foot was tapping angrily, and his chin jutted out in warning.

"Since when were you so into ruining _people's_ reputations and humiliating them, huh?" He snapped back, his voice starting to rise. Jo's anger flashed in his green eyes, as she bit back,

"Since when did you start getting off on making _people_ look like sluts? And gay, for god's sake! You perverted chauvinistic bastard, making people think I like women!" Bobby's eyebrow rose, as that came tumbling out of Dean's mouth, but neither Jo nor Dean noticed.

"Well, you are a fucking whore!" Dean snapped back using Jo's tongue. He narrowed her eyes.

"Maybe _that's_ why people think you are a freaking slut!"

Jo was seething, tensing Dean's arm as if trying to refrain from punching herself in the face. Oh, it would feel so good right now, but it wouldn't do if it was still showing when she got her body back. Bruises didn't compliment her so well.

"And you are a freaking asshole! It's no wonder you're Dad never loved you as much as he loved _him_." Jo yelled back, not caring at the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks. Dean deserved to cry; she was so over crying for him.

"Oh, my god, I hate you! You're ruining my life!" Dean shrieked, putting Jo's delicate hands on his broad chest, hesitating for a split second at how nice it felt before mentally slapping himself and pushing hard. Then he stormed off to cry alone. Dean was sick and tired of being a chick, and no one understood it.

Jo stood there, blinking in rage, before spinning around and put his fist through the wall. She swore, and sat down heavily, breathing hard. She was so sick of this burden, so sick of Dean's whining and bitching and treating her like a push over.

Bobby hesitantly cleared his throat, still in shock over what had transpired in his living room. It wasn't lost on him that something was up with those two.

"Sam?" He asked; his eyes on the hunched form of Dean, "What the fuck?"

-

A few minutes later Sam found Dean sitting outside, leaning against the wall; long, blonde hair limp around the small face. Jo's small shoulders shook as he cried; it took a moment for him to notice his brother's presence.

"Sam, I'm so sick of this! I don't want to be a girl for the rest of my life; all these hormones are killing me! I just want to be me again," Dean sobbed into Sam's shoulder, as Sam just pat him, awkwardly, on top of Jo's blonde head.


	5. Denial Is An Art Form

_Chapter Five... Denial Is An Art Form..._

"What was that all about, Dean?" Bobby asked the moment Sam had left the room. He stood his ground a few metres away, stubborn and concerned. His fingers were still tight on the holy water.

"I'm not Dean!" Jo snapped automatically. Then she paused, as Bobby raised an eyebrow, before turning towards him to explain.

"I'm Jo. _That_ was Dean. We… had a run in with a fucking statue of a god of mischief." She sighed and her shoulders sagged, as she leant Dean's chin on his hands.

"Bobby, why is Dean always such a freaking dickhead?" She asked, Dean's eyes pleading for an answer. She turned away and stood up, walking towards the door.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm gonna just go now." She apologised before letting the door swing shut behind her. The older man was left standing there, still in surprise and amused concern for his fellow hunters and friends.

He turned around, and walked towards the back step where Sam sat beside Jo's body.

"Dean?" He asked, almost hesitant. It was new, but he'd seen far, far stranger. It wasn't like they were claiming to have been abducted by aliens or anything.

"Yeah?" The figure of Jo answered automatically, confirming the earlier explanation.

"Care to explain what all that was about?" Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow at the man he considered one of the closest things he had to a son. Dean sighed.

"A god of mischief statue fucking put its freaky ass mogo on us. So now I'm Jo and Jo's me. Isn't that just great?" Dean said, his every word dripping with sarcasm. He smiled, bitterly.

"You got any vodka, Bobby?" He asked, looking up at the older man, tiredly. The other man just looked at him knowingly.

"You like her, don't you?" He pointed out, and Dean looked suitably confused.

"Who?" The elder Winchester asked, causing Sam to snort in amusement. He shook his head.

"Jo, you idiot. It's fairly obvious." Sam joined Bobby in looking pointedly at Dean, who just looked annoyed and confused.

"Dude, what have you been smoking? Do I look like someone who wants to be castrated by Ellen?" He asked, standing up and walking away.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car, Sam."

--

"Hullo?" Jo snapped, when Sam called a few hours after the debacle at Bobby's. She was tired, sore and inebriated and she really wasn't in the mood for anyone to talk at her right now.

"Are you okay?" The younger Winchester brother asked, sounding concerned. Jo would have placed good money on the likely chance that the concern was spurned from, or at the very least encouraged by the fact that she had his brother's voice at the moment.

"I'm fine, not thanks to the good ol' Winchester spirit." Jo snapped, and she could hear his intake of breath as he hesitated. She rolled Dean's eyes at all the mythical beings in her motel room, subconsciously wishing she had someone here to really talk to. This whole "being Dean" thing had her feeling so alone.

"Jo," he started after a moment, "I know this really sucks. I just want you to know that I'm your friend, okay? I'm an ally. Even if Dean is being a pig-headed bastard, like he usually is." Jo smiled, slightly. It would be nice to talk to someone who wouldn't think her crazy or was like a parental figure. Maybe she could talk to Sam.

"Don't take that the wrong way, though. I know I acted well, strangely when I was possessed that time. I'm really sorry about all that…" Sam muttered, embarrassed about the time long passed when the demon bitch Meg had taken his meat suit hostage.

"Don't worry about it. I know it wasn't you… and besides, it wasn't me you shot." Jo assured him, remembering also. It hadn't been the best night for her either.

"This just sucks, you know? The only perks of this package tired out long ago, and I'm so tired of having to screen calls because I don't have my voice and not being able to go clothes shopping or anything, you know?" Jo admitted, suddenly, surprising herself. "Sam, why is Dean always such a dickhead to me? What did I do?" She asked, choking back a stray tear. She heard Sam sigh awkwardly on the other end.

"I don't think you did anything. Dean is a bit of an ass by nature, but I think he actually respects you… at the very least." Sam replied, honestly. Jo could picture the truthful puppy eyes he probably wore as he spoke.

"Respects me?" Jo scoffed, "He doesn't accept me as a hunter, or even like an adult. He never even calls when he says he will." Dean's hand flew to her mouth as she realised the implications in what she had just said. "I mean, he doesn't even care enough to be honest with me."

Silently, Sam smiled to himself; he wondered how long it would take before the two of them got over themselves and pulled their heads out of their arses. It was as clear as daylight to everyone else.

"You like my brother, don't you." He said simply, stating what he thought to be obvious. Jo disagreed.

"No!" Jo snapped, hotly and a little too quickly. "No offence Sam, but I loathe the guy most of the time." There was an almost inaudible click of a door on the other end, as Sam suddenly said,

"I've got to go. How about we grab dinner tomorrow night and we can talk then, okay?" He asked, hurrying to get the words out before Dean walked into earshot. Jo sighed, but accepted the offer.

"Thanks, Sam. I'll see you then."

Sam hung up just as Dean, in Jo's small body, waltzed into the room carrying donuts and coffee. He grinned, offering a cup as he sat down on the vacant bed opposite his younger brother.

"Got a hot date, Sam?" He smirked, wiggling Jo's eyebrows suggestively. Sam laughed; it wasn't quite the same thing as when Dean did it in his own body.

"No. We are eating out tomorrow." Sam snapped back, annoyed at his elder brother's juvenile attitude. Dean raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well that's something new and exciting for us. Are you taking me somewhere really special Sam?"


End file.
